


What We Could

by Riyazura



Category: Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Secret Ending, Angst, Best Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Platonic Romance, Romance, Spoilers, ending spoilers, updates weekly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:09:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29420640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riyazura/pseuds/Riyazura
Summary: To say Link felt guilty about killing Terrako was an understatement.He resigns to resolve his grief by making it up to Zelda, and aids her in the process of Terrako’s revival. But as the project deepens, he discovers a deep-seated dissatisfaction in his own identity and fears Terrako’s return, dreading the possibility that it will shatter his efforts of opening up to Zelda. Wishing to be bound by more than duty, to be her friend rather than her knight, he is blind to the cost of his wish until it is almost too late.Updates every Sunday!
Relationships: Impa & Link (Legend of Zelda), Impa & Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	1. Lost, but Never Found

To say Link felt guilty about killing Terrako was an understatement.

Terrako was Zelda's passion project, a childhood best friend, most notably in the wake of her mother's death when she had no other companionship. Terrako was her light in the darkness when she despaired at an age far too young for her to even comprehend.

Terrako was something that would never be coming back.

Following its death, Zelda hadn't faltered. Not since remembering its name did she cry. But as the days sloughed by, she finally admitted just how heartsick she was for Terrako's company.

After returning from her next visit to the Tech Lab, she explained the circumstances to Link about how they may be able to revive it after having gone over the idea with Purah and Robbie. Ancient parts scattered across the wild lands that could, theoretically, be used to repair Terrako.

"With the right parts, we could make Terrako functional again. That is, if we can excavate the right parts," she had grimaced upon mentioning.

It would take a lot of resources and preparation. Unfathomable work, just for the chance to bring the little one back to life in any capacity.

As difficult it would be, Link was certain they would figure it out. Since when had they not, especially after their success in sealing away the Calamity?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This story will update every Sunday. It will be about 13 chapters; this is by far the shortest, as it is the introduction._
> 
> _I wanted to mend a major issue that I had with_ Age of Calamity, _namely the complete absence of Zelink which was so integral to the lore of the source material. This game's version of their friendship isn't_ half _as impactful as it was in_ Breath of the Wild _due to the wider range of primary characters, sadly. I also wanted to expand upon Link's character which I feel was done poor justice in_ Age of Calamity.
> 
> _It should also be of note that I did not base this story off of the post-game missions or sidequests; this is purely a post-ending story that I wanted to tell, unrelated to the gameplay elements of the narrative._
> 
> _Thank you for reading this first chapter of many! I hope you continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds._


	2. Crack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Trigger Warning:_ ** _See the end of the chapter for trigger warnings if needed._   
>  **_Note:_ ** _Surprise! I wanted to provide an extra update this week as compensation for Chapter 1 being so short. Enjoy!_

Link's optimism couldn't have strayed any further from actuality.

He hadn't gazed upon Terrako's hollow shell of a body since the night he had been forced to beat it down. But alas, Zelda had brought him to the Tech Lab, and led him to the worktable anyway, where Purah and Robbie had been examining it since the Calamity's disappearance.

They stood alone in the room where silence pervaded. What remained of Terrako lay illuminated far too bright under the massive light affixed above the worktable.

"This is what remains of Terrako," Zelda murmured forlornly beside him at last. "Much of it was irreparable, so we had to dispose of what wasn't salvageable."

Link's heart skipped a beat; what replaced it was a painful pang that echoed in his chest. The little one looked far worse than he remembered.

— _It was the night they stormed Hyrule Castle, climbing towards its reclamation. The skies glowed a strange violet in the dead of night, sometimes blooming with blood-red clouds. The Harbinger had claimed Astor's body, festering with malice, and out from the blinding aura of evil burst Calamity Ganon in his true form._

_Behind Link and Zelda, the little Guardian trembled with fear at the sight of what would corrupt it, render it an enemy to the blinding nature of Ganon's malice._

Link resisted the urge to stroke his fingertips across Terrako's carapace. Its white stone-like casing had been cleaned of soot and malice residue, but areas were still undeniably cracked. Small fractures of the little one's shell had broken off even before the researchers had recollected it, undoubtedly due to the bashes Link had given it with the Master Sword.

— _When they heard the cries of terror and possibly even pain_ _behind them, Link and Zelda whirled around. They were met with the sight of Terrako trying to shake itself free of the foreign influence overriding its consciousness, pulling it along as it charged ahead of them to unleash a sudden beam of light centered on Link._

_The knight had only enough time to listen to instinct amidst his incredulity—he brought up his Hylian Shield, parrying the blow back at the little Guardian. When he next peered out from his shield, he first noticed how the little one's once-blue eye now burned a fiery, unfamiliar orange, and then the ancient technological weapons that emerged from its opened shell._

Parts of Terrako were missing completely, internally and externally. A whole ear-like appendage was missing, a moment the knight remembered in his battle with it.

— _"It seems we have no recourse but to fight..."_

 _When Link hesitated, keeping his sword poised to defend but not attack in front of him, Zelda prompted, "Go on. Go,_ now!" _she howled, and he rushed forward with his head still bowed in denial._

_He skidded to a stop just in front of the little Guardian, where it immediately struck out with an ethereal light blue blade. He caught it against his Hylian Shield, thrusting it back until he landed his sword against its axe. They had struck out at the same time, and Link was initially surprised at its strength as he pushed its axe down._

_He took the opportunity to bash the proximity of its eye before bringing the Master Sword down against its head with relentless force. The blow landed hard against its ear-like appendage, causing the appendage to crumble off and it to rock back in momentary recoil. Despite that, its eye still burned an unflinching orange. It was determined to kill them._

'I'm sorry,' _Link wanted to speak out. But he couldn't, not with the others that had arrived to see the fight unfurl, and not while Ganon was controlling it._

No, _he ordered himself,_ no thoughts. _Just fight._ I can't afford to think of it as a friend now—it is a foe, an _enemy._

_An enemy he didn't want to make. He struck out next anyway._

_After all, now it was as dangerous as any Guardian—now, it was kill or be killed._

He struggled to keep his breathing even as he continued to scrutinize the little Guardian's hollowed-out body. He didn't want to concern Zelda by so much as stepping away.

Terrako had stayed unnaturally open this whole time, revealing its machinery inside which looked frighteningly skinnier than before. Link wondered with horror, had he done that? He didn't remember being so cruel as to target its innards!

— _The two sides continued their onslaught, and the clash had become more than a mere battle; now, it was a desperate race to land the finishing blow. Sweat trickled down brow, and machinery whirred with exertion._

_Upon every advancement of ethereal sword and axe, Link dodged. Upon every advancement of a holy blade and metal shield, the little Guardian dodged. They circled as they each exchanged slash after slash, bash after bash, shirking the other in a dance-like maneuver only they could tap into as foes. Only the other existed in this moment. This was it. One of them had to end the fight—it had already dragged on for too long._

_When Link struck out next, the little one sprung back before bounding back to its opponent while his shield was still lowered, trying to deliver a finishing slice across his neck, but Link was faster._

_The knight lunged out of the way, but dashed around it, where he retaliated with a lunge forward. It whorled around to face him just a moment too late, and with an unprecedented snarl Link seized his opportunity._

_Link bashed the edge of the Master Sword with violent force against the center of its eye, its weak point, launching it across the embry arena. Before it was sent away, however, the very end of its sword nicked his cheek, leaving a long, deep gash emblazoned across the left side of his face._

The slash across Link's cheek that had now scabbed over burned profusely, and Link refused the urge to reach up and soothe it with a clenching of his fist.

His breaths came swifter, heavier, and suddenly he was aware of a peculiar sense of disconnection; amidst the sounds of the busy Tech Lab in the other rooms, he could discern the faint presence of ringing, growing ever more distinct as he remained rooted stoicly there.

 _Get ahold of yourself; now is no time to lose composure,_ he told himself.

_But was this all really my fault? Would Terrako still be alive if I hadn't been forced to beat it to death?_

— _The little one collided against a wall of rubble, the remains of the collapsed royal gazebo; the sound of impact echoed with a sickening crunch of metal and carapace._

_Deafening silence followed the end of the skirmish, interrupted only by the sizzle of crackling flame and the rhythmic roaring of Link's ears._

_His Sword-wielding hand sunk to his side, its tip nearly grazing the ashen ground. The urge to run to the little Guardian almost overwhelmed him before Zelda rushed past him, stopping only when wind fanned the flames near the Guardian in her direction._

_Then its body skidded against the concrete rubble of the gazebo to the gravelly earth, and the Princess collapsed to her knees in front of it._

_She'd begun to cry immediately. Link wouldn't ever forget the desperation and distress her sobs betrayed as it sang to her its final, broken song._

" _Terrako..."_

He narrowed his eyes as he watched Terrako without really seeing it now; his vision burned around the edges, fizzling as the shadows closed in, and he had to close his eyes before finally turning his head away.

He leaned against the worktable before tearing himself away from what Zelda had shown him, ignoring how muddled her voice sounded when she inquired in surprise, "Link?"

He only made it to the step next to the balcony before the world tilted beyond his liking; he rested a fatigued hand on the railing, sinking to his knees. He couldn't hide the way his breaths quivered as they escaped him.

When he opened his eyes next—wait, he had closed them?—he noticed Zelda in front of him where he had involuntarily collapsed, his tingling fingers splayed against the dull stone tilework.

"Link," she yelped amidst the ringing, her emerald eyes brimming with apprehension, "are you alright? Do I need to get someone?" Her voice was stifled but shrill, tinged with panic. Her hand on his shoulder squeezed as if to keep him alert.

He shook his head as he let his eyelids slip closed again. His arms trembled as his palms pushed against the floor.

"I'm sorry—I'm so sorry," she choked out. "I should have guessed..."

The memory of Terrako's defeat caused by his own hand would forever plague him. Terrako may have been important to Zelda, but Terrako had been important to _him,_ too. The little one had been a companion to him; it had always followed him everywhere—he couldn't imagine his travels without it. And yet here they were, and here it was not.

After seeing the damage again firsthand, Link was filled with doubt that it would even be possible to fix the little Guardian. He could identify every strike of his Sword he had laid upon it; there were too many to count. What if he had hurt it beyond repair?

"It's a miracle we only lost Terrako, you know," the Princess began again.

Link nodded in resignation, his eyes closed, but it was more of a dip of his head, except that he didn't lift it again. "I know," he breathed.

"It wasn't your fault. You didn't _choose_ to do what you did. You were forced to, and by _me,_ no less."

Link just sighed thinly in reply. The ringing of his ears had begun to subside, and the racing of his heart slowed, though it still overwhelmed him.

"No one blames you for what happened," Zelda reestablished with deeper conviction. "Terrako gave itself up anyway. And even if we hadn't been forced to oppose it, there's no telling it would have survived throwing itself into Calamity Ganon. There was no predicting the circumstances."

The two shared a moment of quietude together in the empty laboratory room.

"I brought you here to assess what we can do to save Terrako, because there is still a chance, no matter how small." The golden-haired girl offered an undaunted smile that reached her eyes. "Remember that."

Link's eyes squinted with trying hope in response, but his smile was weak, almost invisible before it faded completely.

Meanwhile, Impa led the Champions to the Tech Lab's entrance. But as soon as she inched open the door, glimpsing the two alone on the other side, she soundlessly whipped her arm out, bringing the four behind her to an immediate stop.

The Royal Advisor turned around to the Champions; her head was lowered ever so slightly in remorse. "We need to give them some time," she murmured discreetly.

"For what reason?" Revali answered pointedly less cautiously, and he pushed his way to the front of the group, leaning forward to see past Impa and into the lab.

" _Revali!"_ Impa hissed with bared teeth.

As soon as he had spotted what she had warned the group vaguely about, his face morphed from indifference to intrigue. He stepped back again, returning to the safe, unobtrusive side of the door.

"I see," he acknowledged simply. He spoke quieter this time.

Revali's forbearing reaction led the rest of the Champions to decide that they shouldn't prod about the matter that had come up between the Hero and the Princess on the other side, as clueless as they were about the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Trigger Warning:_ ** _This chapter contains emotional traumatic flashbacks and a near-fainting experience._


	3. Companion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Happy 35th anniversary, Legend of Zelda!_
> 
> **_Note:_ ** _If you're curious, here's a soundtrack that I think fits nicely in the latter half of the chapter! Look up "[Beastars Special OST - Confused by Satoru Kosaki](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mu9h9hLWfEk)" on YouTube. For reference, I will place a marker (~{o}~) when it starts._

Terrako had left a gaping hole in the group since its absence, so Link had resigned to becoming Terrako's replacement. It was for Zelda's sake, he had decided with a sense of obligation.

Link couldn't be everything Terrako was, however, and there was nothing he could do for his own heartsickness—he dearly missed the sound of its claws skittering loyally behind him upon each step, and its curious bleeps ranging anywhere from indignant to entertaining. But he could always try to compensate for what Zelda was now missing that Terrako had given her in the brief time it had accompanied them on their journey.

He could only imagine how much Zelda missed the little one's antics if he missed them so. He thought of when Terrako would copy his flawlessly chivalrous stature when he stood guard. He thought of when it would charge ahead of him when they advanced together on the battlefield. And when all was peaceful afterwards, and the group was rewarded with time to spend together, it had been so amiable, so willing to interact positively with every member of the group—well, except for Impa, of course.

Link wished he could be as robust as the little one was—even just in personality, not even in words—but it was simply far too out of his league. Such expression felt impossibly unattainable to him, and that frustrated him to no end. He didn't want to be her guard, not when she could defend herself with her sealing power—he wanted to be her _friend._

Still, there had been a few notable scenarios that offered him the chance to display that side of him that was determined to serve as Zelda's companion. The first had been on an afternoon they spent at the Royal Tech Lab, when the first wave of parts suitable for repairing Terrako had been uncovered.

A particular Giant Ancient Core held the use of what Zelda referred to as an "artificial intelligence" system unique to any the excavators had found, and as such, the researchers handled it with great care. But, seeing as it was both rare and fragile, it was only a matter of time someone would accidentally mishandle it.

"Be careful with bringing that here, Mipha," Zelda informed the Zora Princess, as she had also taken to assisting the two in their task repairing Terrako. Zelda glanced over her shoulder from the worktable accommodating Terrako's carapace, "or do you want Link to take it for you?"

"No, thank you," Mipha declined politely with a smile, "I'll manage just fine." She took the Giant Ancient Core, with its unique blue sphere unlike the usual orange variety, glowing in her arms and illuminating her face.

She lifted it up onto the table without issue, and accordingly stepped back again, giving Zelda room to operate. "What next?"

"We have to dismantle it, which means that we have to unscrew the outer rings of the Giant Core." Zelda stood over it with a screwdriver in hand, wherefore she undid each bolt from the first ring on one side.

Zelda explained, "The inner core is what we need. The hard part about that, however, is getting it out, which requires precision when undoing these outer rings..."

Apparently the golden-haired girl had gotten too wrapped up in removing the Giant Ancient Core's remaining ring that none of them had noticed when the delicate blue core fell out of the other side that had been freed.

" _Runaway core!"_ Link heard Purah yell in alarm on the other side of the balcony.

Zelda yelped when she spotted the special blue Ancient Core rolling across the worktable and towards the edge. She gasped as it disappeared from the surface, "No—!"

That was when Link had dived to the floor, sliding as he caught it in one outstretched hand.

The stiff alarm of the researchers in the vicinity relaxed once the relief settled in that Link had caught it just in time.

Zelda stooped before him, her emerald orbs still glowing with surprise; "That was a close one," she sighed. "It's perfectly unscathed. You're a lifesaver, Link."

The knight lifted himself to his knees, shaking his head with a rather comedic huff of relief. He lifted the core to Zelda with an eager smile.

She laughed before she took it in her hand, and offered him her own. "Are you hurt at all?" She chuckled as she asked him, her smile still reaching her eyes.

As she pulled Link to his feet, he noted that the palm he had used to steel himself against the ground was scuffed; his gauntlet hadn't done much to protect his hand when he fell forward.

"Here," Mipha offered. "I can mend that wound easily, if you wish."

And so that afternoon was successful not only in the first operation done on fixing Terrako, but especially in Link's first effort as Terrako's replacement.

His second attempt had likewise been successful. It hadn't had anything to do with repairing Terrako itself, but it was on a day that he, Zelda, Impa, and Daruk spent searching for ancient parts themselves. They had gone out with an excavation group in western Akkala, and trekked up to Shadow Hamlet, where there was said by Goron to be a "goldmine" of sorts.

"Hopefully that reserve shows up soon..." Zelda brooded. The possibility of an unsuccessful hunt was evidently on her mind.

It wasn't long before the three were called over by excavators, luckily, pointing into a colossal hole they had dug into gritty Death Mountain soil, filled with an assortment of defunct Guardians.

"Ooh, would'ja look at that! The goldmine!" Daruk marveled at the sight of it. He hopped down into it, 'ooh'ing and 'aah'ing at something that most certainly was not the dust-caked Guardians the excavators had dug up.

Zelda had noticed immediately.

"Huh?" She quirked her eyebrows, intrigued, her dullness forgotten.

Daruk lifted a specimen of what had interested him in his hand, clambering back up to them. Without any context, it looked like any regular old rock, but Link easily surmised they were missing something, as they were not rock experts like the Goron chief was.

"It's one of the finest Goron delicacies! Even better than rock-hard food or rock roast—this is the best of the best! We Goron only ever eat this on ceremonial occasions! How strange to find them with a host of Guardian parts, too, eh?"

Impa looked unsettled. "I think I know where this is going."

"Little guy!" Link tried not to stiffen as Daruk turned to him with a belated smile. "Try it; I have no doubt you'll like it if you like our other stuff!"

Zelda could only watch this transpire, but Impa strutted up to Link, placing her hand on his shoulder to pull him closer and whisper into his ear: "Learn to say no, you moron. If you don't you're going to be on bedrest for three days longer than the last time!"

He tried it anyway. Zelda facepalmed at first, but then a laugh bubbled forth from her, and she sighed, "Always the bravest out of the group."

Impa had been right. He couldn't do anything more than lie down and not move for five days thereafter.

At least it had gained a laugh from Zelda, he reflected. He had given the Princess the laugh she needed, and as such had fulfilled his goal of serving as her companion. That was why he had ended up accepting Daruk's unintentionally merciless offer... Mostly, anyway.

At this point, it had been three weeks since the sealing of the Calamity. Terrako had still only been repaired of the two parts they had excavated. Countless more were still currently left undiscovered...

Link wondered if he was doing well enough in serving as Zelda's new companion. He'd been trying, even in their daily occupations, to be more exuberant. He simply wished he wasn't always so inherently stoic. He was certain that was the barrier holding him back.

He wondered if Zelda would continue to acknowledge him the same way after Terrako was revived. Would she still care for his efforts to be her friend? Or would they be bound by no more than duty once again?

He wondered if she or the Champions had noticed his internal struggle. Given how innately impassive he was on the outside despite his efforts not to be, he guessed otherwise. But there was always the possibility that they knew.

"Howdy, Link."

Well, Impa probably did, at least.

The knight looked behind him where the ruins of the royal gazebo still lay, as it hadn't been rebuilt yet. Sunset had cast its saffron light over the land, and he had longed for some peace so he could mull over and organize his thoughts in solitude. But it seemed that Impa had found him long before he could finish.

She sauntered towards him with a welcoming aura about her. "Something on your mind?"

Link simply turned back to face the scenery of Hyrule Ridge and shrugged. His hands were wrapped around the pommel of his Master Sword, which he leaned on.

"How are the repairs on Terrako going? How many breakthroughs have you had?"

He lifted his hand over the mark marring the left side of his face, trying to appease the way it burned. "Not very many at all." He hoped he didn't sound too discouraged.

"More of them will come with time," Impa said with confidence. "I hope you're not too worried. It's only been three weeks."

"I've been thinking..." Link began. His left hand returned to rest over his blade's pommel. "I want to be more of a help to Princess Zelda's findings."

"Do you think accompanying her isn't enough? I think it's great that you've been there at all, even if science isn't quite your forte. It was never mine either, I'm sure you know," Impa joked. She and Terakko had never gotten along too well, but Link could tell even she missed it. What mattered to the Princess mattered to her, no matter how ill-mannered or mischievous it was.

Link shook his head. "I should go to Purah myself and request some education. Though, that'll require..."

" _Nooo-_ no-no-no-no-no," Impa denied immediately, "don't come to _Purah_ about it—she can't keep her mouth shut."

"Wh—?" The act of assertion had caught the boy completely off-guard.

"Well," Impa scowled at her own brashness, "what I mean is—you mean to keep this secret, don't you?" she inquired in a more hushed, apologetic tone.

Link's sapphire eyes watched her, piercingly intrigued. He merely nodded, awaiting her explanation.

"It's just that Purah isn't reliable in the way of...keeping what isn't her business to herself. She's really into gossip-mongering. Robbie might be obnoxious, but he's not _half_ into that as much as she is."

Link rolled his shoulders, her words sinking in. "Good to know," he clarified. "I'll ask him, then. Like I said, I'd rather start helping with bigger tasks than just the menial ones."

Impa pondered for a moment beside him. The wind lapped at her dual ribbons of silver hair. "You know, I've wanted to ask you this for a while, but...why do you talk to me, but not any of the others?"

~{o}~

He gave her a sheepish look that was entirely apologetic. "You keep secrets," he admitted.

"But it's not like the others are going to disregard you if you try," she retorted incredulously. "What are you so afraid of?"

Impa scrutinized him in near-accusation for just a moment too long, but even that didn't grant her an answer.

"Fine," she sighed, "don't tell me. But I have something that I want to tell you.

"I saw what happened that day when you were reintroduced to Terrako after it was found," she confessed. "I saw how you reacted. I didn't expect to ever see you so devastated." Sincere wonder filled her crimson eyes, twinkling like amber in the sunset's golden light, and she prompted, "Be honest with me; why do you feel the need to replace Terrako?"

So she could tell.

Link avoided the Royal Advisor's reaction. Instead, he looked in front of him, at the sprawling prairies of Irch Plain just beyond the Castle Moat. He subconsciously rubbed the space below his index finger on his left hand, a habit he had picked up when his responsibilities as Champion had originally ramped up. It stung slightly underneath his gauntlet.

"Because I feel like I was the reason Terrako never came back," he said quietly in a strained voice, still as stone, as if revealing one of his deepest secrets. Because it was one. "Would it still have died against the Calamity if I hadn't beat it down first?"

"You were never the reason Terrako died, Link, the Calamity was. And you're not obligated to be that," Impa said gently, conviction settled deep in her unwavering gaze. "The Princess has _all_ of us. Terrako might be gone, but the rest of us are still here, and we're not leaving anytime soon." The Sheikah woman smiled encouragingly.

 _But that's not what I'm afraid of,_ Link desperately wanted to say.

 _I don't want Terrako to be left behind, broken; Zelda deserves to have it back, and I miss its companionship too. I just don't want her to leave_ me _behind when it finally comes back._

But he couldn't tell Impa that—it wasn't at all of her concern.

So he sighed in resignation. "You're right." A forlorn smile lifted his lips, false as he knew it was.

"I'm glad to see you making an effort to improve even after all you've done to save everyone. That really is commendable, Link."

The knight conceded with a shy incline of his head, and he closed his eyes, instead embracing the pleasant evening wind. The reassuring warmth of Impa's words filled his chest that had only three weeks ago almost burst with despair upon seeing what remained of Terrako, of what still felt like his fault in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Headcanon of the day: Outside of Link's and Zelda's platonically romantic relationship, Link and Impa are best friends. I feel like I_ would _ship them if Zelink wasn't the thing I was trying to fix about_ Age of Calamity, _but, then again...I interpret their friendship as more ‘siblingly,’ if you will._
> 
> _Also, if there happen to be any formatting errors in these end notes, I apologize in advance. I spent a good 20 minutes last week trying to fix the notes of Chapter 2 that somehow showed up in Chapter 1, and needless to say, it was frustrating. They are so confusing to sort out with AO3's formatting! So sorry if that happens again, heh._
> 
> _Thank you for reading!_


	4. Driven

Purah had been the one to greet Link when he stepped into the Royal Tech Lab.

"I certainly wouldn't expect you to come here of all places on your rest day, Linky, but it is good to see you! What is it that brings you here?"

"I...I was hoping to speak to Robbie," the boy explained sheepishly.

"Hmm? Oh," Purah nodded, turning her heel to strut down the room, "all right, I'll get 'im!"

Link startled when he heard Purah's unannounced yell echo onto the walls of the balcony side of the room he suspected Robbie must be in: _"Hey, Robbie!"_ Then he heard quieter talking; "Might you know why Link is here for you?"

"No idea." And then an exasperated hum of wonder from the Sheikah woman.

Robbie stepped down from the balcony with Purah thereafter.

"I'll leave you both to it. I'll just pick up where you left off on your examinations," she told Robbie before slinking off into the inspections of a defunct Guardian she'd pulled him from.

"So, what brings you to our _prodigious_ headquarters?" Robbie struck a pose as he asked, but Link paid it no heed.

"I wanted to request a rundown on Terrako's machinery, so I can understand it better. I'd like to assist in its restoration more."

"Very well," Robbie understood with ecstatic energy. "Let me show you."

The Ancient Sheikah researcher led him to the worktable, and pulled Terrako down from a shelf, setting it down under the garish light fixture.

"We've learned much since having to repair Terrako. There is a lot we wouldn't have discovered if we weren't required to reverse-engineer it. I'll start with the motherboard. And, er, you might want a pen and paper, Link. If you want any hope of remembering all of this, you're going to have to write it down." Robbie lent him an apologetic smile. "I'll find you a spare journal lightning-fast."

It didn't take long for Robbie to find one and slap it down onto the counter beside him, along with a pen and a particularly thick book.

"Bring that book home with you to read later. That's another requirement if you want a better grasp on ancient technology—sorry, kid," he added when he noticed Link's discouraged expression.

They had only just started, and already there was more to comprehend than he expected.

After that introduction was no more rewarding. Link expected complicated, but this was _complicated._ Robbie went over not only Terrako's numerous apparatuses, but also showed him individual spare parts of Guardians and how they operated, as the topic of Terrako and general knowledge of Guardian machinery naturally intersected.

By the end of Robbie's lecture, Link was more than drained, and he succumbed to the prospect of rest.

Before he made his way to the door, however, he heard Purah return to Robbie's side, where they were exchanging hushed words.

Link slowed to a stop before the door, resting a hand lightly against the metal door latch. It felt cold against his fingers as he focused on their banter.

"So what did he ask for?" Purah had asked.

"A briefing on Terrako's machinery. Maybe he's being serious when he says he wants to help her Highness repair it more?"

"He _told_ you that? Well, either way, that kid's always serious. Knows nothin' _but_ serious."

He closed his eyes, and pushed the door open. He couldn't stand there eavesdropping forever, not when that last statement had stung in particular.

He shut the door behind him with his weight against it. A groan escaped his throat as he sighed. He laid a hand over his eyes, protecting from the harsh sunlight and stifling his frustration as he remained rooted against the splintery wooden door.

_So much for trying to seek out Robbie instead of Purah._ His head fell. _It looks like your idea didn't turn out quite as planned, Impa._

_But it'll be fine,_ Link reasoned with a scowl. _Purah probably won't say anything. She'd_ better _not._

After that, he retired to his bedroom in the Royal Guard's chambers early.

He didn't even know why he was trying when ultimately Zelda was already leagues better at math and science than he would ever be, but hopefully his efforts would bear some fruit. _Hopefully._

_It's not like I can do much else to help,_ he thought much to his chagrin. _Why was I born with a gift that would only help me until my purpose as the Hero was fulfilled? At least Zelda has her scientific prowess._

_But I shouldn't be so bitter,_ he chided himself. _Surely there is at least one other thing I can do to help the situation, even if it's not with this. Or even to do with fixing Terrako at all._

He spent the rest of his night pondering ideas in helping Zelda outside of research in the journal Robbie had given him. He'd fallen asleep at his desk, his pen still in hand, before he could think of any he was satisfied with, however.

It wouldn't be remiss of someone to think he was driven by more than obligation at this point.


	5. Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so AWWKWAAARD

"You've done well thus far, my little bird... Things are looking up for this little one of yours."

"Thank you, Urbosa," Zelda gushed, excitement swelling her words of gratefulness. "Our efforts have been frustrating, but they've paid off already. I believe we're over halfway on our repairs. The only obstacle we face now is analyzing what can replace what we can't find. So many of Terrako's parts were unique to its model."

Urbosa cocked her head, and her ponytail of ruby-red hair wavered in protest behind her. "It's just a matter of deciphering the puzzle. I have no doubt the answer will come to you naturally, as it always does."

Zelda curtsied in a show of certainty. "We will prevail." She offered a glowing smile to Link next to her.

Urbosa visited them in the midst of their daily studies at the Royal Tech Lab to see the advancement of Zelda's project. The Princess had been right about the rate of their progress; it was indeed coming slowly, but at least it was coming. One breakthrough was better than none. Things hadn't quite trickled to a standstill, they had surmised.

Still, that fact pushed the two to continue their revelations while Urbosa accompanied them that afternoon. Today, they had begun analyzing some spare Guardian parts in hopes of repurposing them to be compatible with Terrako. One such instance brought about a certain realization to Link. Inspecting a Guardian Scout's spring led him to realize that it may just fit as a replacement for one of Terrako's defunct springs that had lost its elasticity.

At first, he thought his question entirely inconspicuous: "Why don't we try and install this spring?" When Zelda approached him from her own side of the worktable, he added, "It looks like a perfect fit."

She waited to reply, searching both of its ends for something apparently invisible to him. She hummed pensively as she spotted it, tapping one end with the pad of her index finger.

"As much as I want it to, this won't work. Though this _is_ indeed a perfect fit, we can't get this to insert correctly into Terrako. The one we have isn't the same model as it, of course, so it would perform differently."

Link immediately betrayed his surprise at Zelda's answer, invested in the topic: "What makes that so?"

The scholar raised her brow at him before she cast her emerald gaze to the subject once more. Maybe she was taken aback by his interest in the topic? "Well, what makes this spring inoperable despite it being a spring is its buoyancy. Guardian Scouts and Terrako have different ranges of mobility due to their difference in size. There's nothing we can do to alter this spring's elasticity without ruining it, too," she finished wistfully. "But, you know, what I find personally clever about the design of these springs is how the Sheikah designed them so that they won't fit inside of Terrako's model. Terrako's looks like this." She pulled the same spring from the crate of defunct Terrako parts. "Can you spot the difference?"

Link's eyes flitted between the two springs until his eyes lit up in recognition—"The notch," he observed. At one end of the thick spiral circumference of Terrako's spring, there was a notch made at a ninety-degree angle. The Guardian Scout's spring, alternatively, did not accommodate such a notch.

Zelda nodded. "If we place this part not meant for Terrako in here, then..."

She sidled closer to Terrako, leaning in to better operate on it.

Link followed her lead in eager observation. The two stood side by side in an undeniably close proximity. Link thought he noticed Zelda glancing at him from the corner of his vision, until she looked away, then back again, as if distracted. He finally caught her gaze in his the third time, but by then it seemed she couldn't help but smile as she surveyed him from so up-close.

"Hmm?" Link inquired.

"Noth—It's nothing," she reassured him with a more nuanced murmur, being so close. Her cheeks were tinted a fair rose, he noticed. And her eyes weren't just emerald—their depths imbued a golden-green like summer leaves turning to fall... How enrapturing.

"Anyway," she started again, thrusting Link violently from his musings, "if we install this Guardian Scout part here, then it doesn't fit all the way. This would make Terrako's shell bulge once we closed it, which could endanger the rest of our work if we let it go. And even if we were able to create our own notch in the spot where it would fit, it still wouldn't operate the way we want it to regardless.

"That's why we need to find the replacement for this specific part," the Princess concluded. She lifted herself to her full height again with her hands against the worktable, leaving Link who still leaned over it.

When he realized, he rose immediately and more than a little hurriedly, nodding stiffly in understanding.

Zelda didn't answer upon witnessing him, but she did give him a genuine smile. Did she do that on purpose? _To help me relax?_ Why was he _not_ relaxed? There was no reason he should be flustered! _Why am I flustered!?_

Urbosa, who had observed the duo's progress from the distance of the chalkboard, flashed him a mischievous blue and white grin, subtle as it was.

He shot her a glower when he was sure Zelda had returned to her notes. _Don't be like that,_ he wanted to groan at the Gerudo chief, but he couldn't, obviously, what with his upheld silence and all.

Fine, maybe his motivations as her companion _did_ become more than obligation. Maybe he _did_ wonder if they could be more than friends.

And maybe he _did_ think Urbosa should stop rubbing that in his face!

Okay. Well, fine. So what if Urbosa could tell? It wasn't like she was going to tell anyone. If anything, he was certain that smirk was a display of her faith in him.

Link just hoped that their next tagalong would be more forgiving if anything akin to this happened again.

* * *

The person who next joined them in their scientific endeavors happened to be Revali, of course.

Link hadn't expected him to ever show up of his own volition, but then Impa briefly clarified to him that she had forced him along. That explained a lot. Purah had also decided to join the group of four on this particular day, and lend critique on their progress, perhaps furthering it.

Apparently, that had not gone well in the short while that Link and Zelda had left on an errand.

They both delved deeper into the vicinity just to retrieve a tool they theorized they might need, and yet that had been all the time Impa and Purah needed to get into a heated argument.

"Oh, no, turn it off! You shouldn't have to do that to evaluate it!"

"Sis, if she didn't want us doing this, then she would've said so. It'll be _fine!"_

"Oh, please—this is sickeningly inhumane! Think about how she would feel if she walked into this! She'd be absolutely devastated!"

"It's not like it's going to remember!"

"Stop it, you two!" The two could hear Revali as they ascended the stairs that led to the balcony in the lab room. "If she sees you trying this, Purah, then— _ugh,"_ his voice drew steadily closer, becoming all the louder— _"_ It's not something _I'm_ going to risk—"

Link and Revali nearly collided at the top of the stairs, Zelda just behind him, and the three of them scrambled to a stop just in time.

It didn't take long at all for Revali to recompose himself, and he accordingly folded his grayish-purple wings. "Ex- _cuse_ me," he drawled in a condescending manner, not budging from his place in front of the stairs, "but did I say you could come in here?"

"No, you did not," Zelda answered cooly with an inquisitive quirk of her brow, "but there should be no reason as to why I _can't._ What happened in the _five_ minutes that we were gone?"

"Well, as I'm sure you can hear, there's some—" he scoffed— _"heated_ bickering going on in the lab. So _I'm_ just going to make myself useful and ask where the soldering irons are."

"What for? Usually that's for wiring, and we weren't doing any of that today, were we?"

Link didn't think the Rito Champion's green-eyed glower could get any more sullen. "We weren't _supposed_ to, but Impa and Purah are clawing at each other's throats." Before Zelda had the chance to ask why, he continued, "I'm going to save myself the headache and just come with you to fetch it. Now do us a favor and lead the way, Princess."

"Ve—Very well," she forbore, and she turned around to skip down the flight of stairs a second time. She still cradled the original tool she and Link had set off for in her hands.

The foot of the staircase led to a vast and tall room where Guardians were dropped off, then pulleyed up to the balcony above. But just below the staircase, however, was where various supplies and tools were stowed away. The cranny concealed an impressive amount of wooden crates, though some were left haphazardly on the floor, still open. There was also a disconcerting amount of tools and Guardian trinkets littering the tiled stone floor—so much so that the mess required each step to be placed deliberately when wading through it all.

"So we're looking for a Sheikah tech-powered iron? It's like a probe, but powered with heat in the end?" Revali asked. Was he trying to keep Zelda's attention? Such a thing piqued Link's curiosity.

The Princess set their original tool onto the last stair before nodding. "The iron itself is technology-powered. It was a Guardian dagger particularly repurposed to be longer and hotter, so you'll only see the handle. It should be in one of these crates...or on top of them. Or on the floor... Goddesses, Purah really needs to learn how to organize this place."

Contrary to Revali's inquisition, Link and Zelda were the ones who primarily foraged through the storage nook. Revali looked in the meantime, if what he was doing could even be called that; he loitered around the small storage area, pushing some random junk across the floor with his talons, boredom written plain across his face.

Link sent him a look amongst his own lifting and peeking into crates; _You gonna bother helping us or what?_ it said. He was the one who had led them down here in the first place. The Rito Champion merely scowled back, pointedly at the mark that still scoured Link's face. Of _course_ Revali would try to retribute him that way, the boy thought.

"Oh, I think I've found it... _finally,"_ Zelda sighed exasperatedly in unrelieved relief between them. There it was, the soldering iron, in one of the last crates squeezed under the stairs. She secured its black stone handle, adorned with paler constellations, in her palm. She rose to her feet when she declared, "That should be all we need."

Zelda put everything they had pulled out of the crates back while Link lifted them back in their places under the stairs—what they had taken out, anyway. They weren't inclined to clean up what was already disarranged when they showed up, so regrettably the area was still cramped. That wasn't their problem, though; it was Purah's now.

Zelda faced Link and Revali. "Alright, we're done here. Let's see how Impa and Purah are getting along now."

Given the tight proximity of the packed storage area, Link hadn't realized he was in her way until she stood right before him. By the time he processed that fact, she had already given him a patient—or was that amused?—smile. He scrambled to brace himself against the stack of wooden crates on the staircase's side, giving her just enough room to shuffle past. However, she placed her hand on his shoulder as a means of support as she moved past, which only served to make Link tense up more in unanticipated anxiousness, as innocent as that consequence was of her.

He watched, frozen, as she continued beyond him, without a second thought stepping over the many things littering the cranny's tiled flooring. By the time she was well past him, his mind had finally cleared enough for him to smack his forehead in incredulity at his own performance— _did I really just make that awkward?_ If he hadn't gotten nervous about if she could tell he liked her, it would've been so much less awkward! He could've just exited right in front of her!

When he finally sulked to the foot of the stairs, Revali had apparently been waiting for him. He wore the most smug smirk as he bowed down at Link.

As soon as Link had stepped up to the politely waiting Revali, however, the bowmaster whirled around without a word of warning. He very nearly smacked Link in the face with the rounded snow-white ends of his tail feathers, ascending confidently without him like a pretentious brat.

Link didn't hide his growl this time in comparison to when this had happened the first time. Now _Revali_ has noticed too? _As if Urbosa wasn't enough—she wouldn't go around telling anyone, but I can't trust Revali for anything!_

Once the three had returned to the lab room, this time with Zelda leading them, Impa and Purah had seemed to resolve their conflict, as there was no more yelling coming from the both of them. Instead, a frosty silence had settled over the room.

Zelda immediately approached the two Sheikah sisters with the soldering iron Revali had earlier required, leaving him and Link behind on the balcony. "Is this what you wanted?"

Impa snuck a brief glance at Revali before focusing on Zelda. "Yes," she said simply. Purah didn't acknowledge the question, but kept her own embittered brown eyes on her notes as she wrote.

What could possibly have happened between Impa and Purah to make them come to such a disagreement? The air was practically electric with tension.

Revali, still standing beside Link with his wings folded neatly behind him, whispered into his ear.

"Purah tried to reactivate Terrako early to evaluate its operations, something Impa and I immediately disagreed with. That would be cruelly unfair to both the little one and its master."

Link's breath escaped him in the wave of dismay that followed. That _did_ sound awful. Terrako was still only half-built. He could imagine not only the little one's panic if it were to awaken that way, but especially Zelda's reaction to Purah's naïveté—Zelda would be outraged if she found out.

It even made Link feel upset. The fact that it came from the one who'd called him 'nothing but serious' shouldn't have been a surprise to him.

"Purah seems to forget that that diminutive Guardian was unique to any other. It had feelings too." Revali's faint words were laced with earnest disappointment. He watched the knight next to him with an embry emerald gaze, unsung in its genuity. "Keep doing what you're doing for her, Link.

"Because _I,_ for one, would like to see more of it," he said out loud as he sauntered up to Impa and Zelda's side again. Link thought he could decipher the piercing glint of something akin to approval in the Rito warrior's eyes before he'd left the boy alone on the balcony's threshold.

Link didn't expect Revali's support, of all people. _But I suppose that means I'm doing all right in the way of my efforts._

_Now I have to continue._ Link stepped down from the balcony, joining the four gathered around Terrako's shell. _As always._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Fun fact: I based the little tidbit about "Guardian springs vs Terrako springs" in Urbosa's segment off of Gameboy cartridges—specifically, that Game Boy Color games don't fit inside of original Game Boys. GB games have a notch at the top of the cartridge, while GBC games don't—the notch is filled in for GBC games. That filled-in space for GBC games means that it won't fit inside an original Game Boy, because the power switch transitions into where the notch of a normal GB cartridge should be. So, "Guardian springs vs Terrako springs" = "GBC cartridges vs GB cartridges"?_
> 
> _I hope that explanation made sense—I thought it would be a neat idea to incorporate! Though I don't know why I thought of it in particular. ^^;_
> 
> _Thank you for reading!_


	6. Thoughtful

Link and Zelda's day had started off like any other; they trekked together to the Royal Tech Lab, where they labored endlessly on their project. Impa had decided to tag along this time.

After two months now of repairs, the effort thus far certainly showed. Terrako was still missing many interior parts, but his outer shell had been well-restored—it was no longer begrimed of malice residue, and the parts that were chipped off, both white and tan, had been filled with a durable material called "epoxy resin." As slowly as it had come, it was progress.

Impa had said so when she saw. "Terrako looks much better now than it did when you first started. That counts for something, right?"

"It does, certainly," the Princess agreed, "it's just that 'something' isn't 'everything,' so it's a constant endeavor we have to push against if we want to make strides. There's still a lot we haven't been able to replace." Zelda foraged through the box of old parts that had been destroyed in Link's battle against Terrako. "We can't even repurpose other Guardian parts to accommodate for Terrako, or refurbish its old ones. If we aren't able to locate those parts soon, I fear all of this may be a lost cause..." The golden-haired girl laid a hand upon the little one's dark, inactive eye, her thumb rubbing its smooth surface delicately. It uneased Link to see her silhouette amass with such trepidation.

_Two months of dedication to save a lost friend, rendered_ c _ompletely useless because of a few unsalvageable parts..._ The chance of restoration couldn't be destroyed that easily. It _couldn't_ be.

_How_ could _it be?_ Link wondered.

"You know what?" Impa chimed in. "If we don't make any new progress in the next hour, then we should unwind, take a break for a little while. How does lunch sound?"

Link merely 'ooh'ed in response.

It seemed that that brief display of quirkiness had broken the fragile discouragement that had washed over Zelda like a thin layer of ice, because she couldn't help a grin as she lidded the container of old Terrako parts. "I can't argue with that," she smiled.

As it turned out, they hadn't made any new progress, but at least that fact guaranteed the opportunity for Link to show what he'd brought for Zelda. After he'd made it for the both of them, anyway.

The Tech Lab's kitchen was located deeper in the vicinity, but it was obvious this section of the building was given the least amount of budget out of any; the kitchen was presentable, having been established with royal funding, but outside of the pristine counters and broad fireplace, the room was a ramshackle assortment of cooking equipment with the occasional stray tool sprinkled in-between, like a misplaced beaker sitting unsuspectingly on the counter amidst some dishes. It was obvious the two head researchers could care less about making meals when they were surrounded by their life's work.

It was here that Link decided he would brave asking, "Mind if I fix us lunch?"

Both Zelda and Impa shook their heads with glances of curiosity. "What're you thinking?" The latter asked.

The knight foraged through his satchel for the ingredients he had brought with him on their expedition here—"Creamy heart soup."

It was one of the first ideas he'd jotted down in his journal meant for notes on Terrako, to establish what he could do outside of aiding Zelda in its repair. He'd thought that maybe doing something he was comfortable with would ease his insecurities over the role, but also her stress over Terrako's goings.

"Ooh, you came prepared!" Impa beamed with deeper interest. "You _did_ bring enough for the three of us, right?"

Link could hear the unsung words in her question: _Sorry I didn't tell you that I would tag along before this morning._

"I...c—can make it work," he reassured with a bow and a trying smile, as in a 'trying not to be embarrassed' smile.

That must have been exactly what had crossed the Royal Advisor's mind, because immediately her brow raised, and she gaped, which she swiftly obscured with her hand.

"You don't need to accommodate for me, sorry," Impa clarified prudently. "I'll just forage up something for myself around here."

Zelda prompted otherwise, however; "Why not have what we're having, Impa? Surely we can split it with one more person—"

" _No!"_ Impa exclaimed while Link shot Zelda a deadly look.

"...worries. No worries," Impa added, grinning rather unconvincingly.

"Oooh-kay?" Zelda scrunched her shoulders up in apparent embarrassment, her viridescent eyes squinting in dismay. "I won't argue, if you both seem to so adamantly agree."

Link was internally relieved that his plans hadn't been inconvenienced further—specifically in that Zelda hadn't caught on to his intentions.

After a while, it was almost finished, and Impa hadn't interfered, so he could present it to her as he had originally planned.

"Here." He raised one of two bowls of freshly made creamy heart soup to her. He had ensured that its presentation was immaculate; the slice of radish making up the namesake "heart" of the soup was laid delicately in the top center of the bowl, and scrumptious scoops of pink hydromelon and green voltfruit lapped just above the surface of the light, creamy stew.

Zelda brushed a blonde wisp of hair behind her ear as she gasped in enlightenment—"Oh!" Link had found her smile entirely enthralling, and so he couldn't help but reflect her expression of glee.

"Wow, that looks so good!" Impa proclaimed upon peeking over the Princess' shoulder. "Have you been practicing your cooking, Link?"

The boy offered a reserved shrug; _Maybe._

Zelda settled down at the single small bench table in the kitchen, and brought a spoonful to her mouth. She lit up immediately.

"This is amazing!" The Princess rhapsodized once she finished her first bite. "The flavor, it's so savory and sweet and creamy... How does it _pop_ like that?"

"A lot of effort, I guess? It's taken me many tries. I think I'm close to perfecting this recipe, though," Link tried with a humble air about him, excited as he was to hear her praise.

"Trust me, you've _already_ perfected it," Zelda grinned, which earned her another elated nod of appreciation from Link.

"Can I have a _bite_ at least?" Impa begged. "The suspense is killing me over here, your Highness!"

Link sighed in good nature. He motioned for her to perch down next to his seat. He pulled one more bowl out of the cabinet below the counter, and dished out a small amount of his own soup he hadn't yet touched for Impa.

The Sheikah didn't hesitate in dragging the bowl over to her side of the benchtable to rest under her chin protectively. _"Thank yooouuu,"_ she whispered.

"Now enjoy it," Zelda replied with a chuckle. "He didn't have to give you that."

The Hero and the Princess enjoyed every last spoonful of their meal while Impa had found herself some rice to cook up outside of Link's small serving of soup. He listened as Zelda and Impa exchanged amusing stories and hearty laughs, entertained.

Before deciding that they should return to work, however, Zelda had something to announce.

"Impa, if you may go back alone... Link and I will only be a moment; I'd like to speak with him in private."

Link's heart plummeted; what might she want to discuss? She hadn't mentioned wanting to talk to him individually earlier.

Impa smirked before bounding off with a nod. She left the two entirely alone at their seats in the Tech Lab's kitchen. The subsequent silence was much too excruciating.

"I...I wanted to thank you," Zelda began, "for everything you've done thus far. You've done so much to help me and my efforts, and for that, I am eternally grateful. You've been a true friend to me, Link." She kneaded her hands shyly together on the table's wooden surface.

He thought of many ways he could reply in that moment, and yet he could do naught but nod in understanding.

She wasn't aware of just how awful he felt still, was she?

_Wow._ An dismaying realization had occurred to Link. _I've really let it get to me._

For two months now he had clung to a bitter repentance for something everyone had denied was his fault; yet he simply couldn't bring himself to agree with them. And though he acknowledged their reassurances on the outside, internally he had resigned himself to a commitment of tiring research just for that chance to atone for his one fatal mistake.

But his laments had also diverged to something deeper... In the wake of Terrako's disappearance, Link saw the difference such an absence made. Terrako was not there to serve as Zelda's comfort, so he did instead. He had learned over time that he _enjoyed_ the undertaking, if today was any indication.

He didn't dive to catch the runaway core that had almost shattered just so the outcome of one excavation wouldn't be destroyed. He didn't give himself up to Daruk's pushiness just because he couldn't say no. He didn't pay attention to Zelda when she explained Terrako's unique component just because she decided she wanted to.

He did those things to make Zelda laugh when she was still ridden with grief. To be her friend rather than her knight. All of his efforts to be a better person traced irrevocably back to her.

He hadn't thought too hard about whether she might acknowledge it, actually, for the sake of not disappointing himself. But now that she had, he was filled with a certain joy, and an ember of encouragement enveloped his chest, filling his heart. She had really told him just how much she appreciated his efforts!

"It's the least I can do," he said warmly.

"There's one more thing I want to address." Zelda's expression turned to one of seriousness. "I was informed yesterday of a possible abundance of Ancient Sheikah technology still buried in the Lanayru region, specifically near Mount Lanayru, not far from the Spring of Wisdom... If we can uncover it, it may just hold the rest of what we need to reconstruct Terrako. We could finally make Terrako fully functional again."

So, the end was finally in sight. Finally, he would make up for the fall of Zelda's companion. It would finally bring back the group's zeal that had been lost with it, it would finally accompany them once more on their travels, but most importantly, it would finally be Zelda's most treasured companion and friend once more...

...He would finally lose that same purpose he had given himself.

So soon? What was he going to do then?

Link leaned forward; "Th—That's great," he remarked. Under the table, his fingers wrestled together in uncertainty.

"I wanted to observe the excavations myself, so I've made plans to travel there in exactly a week. I wanted to know if you would like to join me." Zelda raised her head in fortitude, scrutinizing the boy across from her with pinched eyebrows in anticipation of his answer.

Link bowed in compliance with a hum. Companion or not, it was as his obligation required.

Such was his curse.


End file.
